


If I asked you to stay, would you?

by Bamboozlesophie



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bamboozlesophie/pseuds/Bamboozlesophie
Summary: After a tough case, Reid stays home from work. You have to check on him. He looks sick, so you take him to the doctor, and it’s your job to take care of him.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Kudos: 41





	If I asked you to stay, would you?

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the #vicficwriterchallenge on tumblr.

The piercing cold, and slight drizzle falling out of the dark sky around, adding insult to injury. Spirits were low, as rain washed a child's blood from the dirt. The case had not gone ideally; two lives lost, and the team just had to walk away.  
A somber walk back to the cars freezing water hitting, stinging his face. Reid’s nose was red, clothes and hair sopping wet, freezing. He got to the back seat of the car, he pulled his knees up, and let his head fall onto his hands. Morgan and JJ waited outside the car, giving the kid a minute alone.   
The drive back was quiet, JJ glanced back ever so often hoping Reid had fallen asleep, but every time she’d look back she would see his head pressed against the window, eyes darting with every opposing car. The street lights passed over, illuminating his face, and a shine lingering in his eyes. She’d put a comforting hand on Reid’s knee, like a mother would on a long car ride.  
In damp clothes he finished his reports, and finally left the office at two.   
He entered the subway tunnels, light coming out as a path marker. The eerie feeling that comes with two a.m. is in the lingering, on the streets, in tiled subway tunnels, and definitely present in anything the moonlight touches. There is a surprising amount of people on the subway for being so early. A man in the corner, held a bag with paper towels in it. A little farther along was an old bag lady. Finding someone normal to sit near was going to be too much to ask for, until he saw a woman, sleeping and seemingly destitute, a baby squirming on her lap. He waved. And she returned it.  
So he sat. He was talking to her, and playing with her. Doing magic has always gotten him far with kids, except when he was one. She squealed as he pulled a coin from behind her ear and he laughed along. She laughed at the look of him smiling, and when he leaned in to make funny faces at her, her giggle turned into a cough. He patted her back a little bit, to quiet her barking cough, trying to not wake the baby’s mother. If you’re tired enough to fall asleep on those plastic seats, then any sleep you could get must be a blessing.  
His stop neared, and he pulled 20 dollars from his wallet and slipped it into the woman's purse. He also shook her shoulder to wake her up, his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave the baby unattended.  
“Sorry for waking you, I just thought…” He said nervously, and awkwardly smiled and waved goodbye to the baby.  
“Thank you,” she whispered. And she started to pat the back of her daughter.  
He got off the metro happy, and walked the rest of the way to his apartment, the yellow glowing street lights making the falling rain sparkle as it fell to the earth.  
He got home and wanted to get some sleep before he had to get up and go to work at nine. He didn’t want to shower and change, he could do that in the morning. He threw a soft blanket across the couch. He sat down, and kicked his converses off of his heels. He laid down, wet hair hitting the pillow.   
***  
You walked up the stairs to his apartment. You have twenty minutes until your lunch break is over, but when Garcia told you to check on Reid you knew you had to. He has a tendency to shut everyone out; say he’s fine when he’s actually far from. He would say he’s fine until he literally exploded.   
You walked past apartment #19, #20, past an empty coffee cup on the floor, #21, then you ran back, picked up the coffee cup, and threw it away at the end of the hall. Apartment #23, you knocked. “Hey Reid, you there?” You tried knocking harder. “Hey kid let me in!” You were about to pound the door down like you were the cops, but you heard a click. Reid unlocked the door, and squinted at you.  
“Why,” he cleared his throat a little, “Why are you here?”   
“Hi, it’s 1 in the afternoon, you didn’t show up to work today, and apparently you guys   
had a particularly bad case last night.”  
“It’s one?” he said walking back into his apartment, to go find a clock.  
You walked in, and straight to his kitchen, to wash your hands after touching that coffee cup.   
“You didn’t purposely not come in today?”   
“No, you’re insistent knocking woke me up.”  
“So, you’re wearing your clothes from yesterday?”  
“Yeah, I’d gotten home late last night, or actually early this morning, I guess.”  
“Are you feeling okay?” You looked at his hair that was sweaty and stuck to his forehead.  
“Kinda tired, I guess, but I’m fine.” He said staring off, trying to focus on how he actually felt.  
“Here let me feel your forehead.” You reached up and pressed your hand to his face. You couldn’t tell, because you had just washed your hands rendering them cold. You ran your hand through his hair, and kissed his forehead. It was warm. His face turned red, and it came in splotches.  
“I think you’re a bit warm. Would you like to try to get to the doctor before they close walk-ins?”  
“No, I’m fine.”  
“Then I’m going to go back to the library. I hope you find a good excuse for not going to work today,” You said, but couldn’t make a move for the door.  
“If I don’t go, will you leave?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.  
“You look really red, your face felt pretty warm, you slept in your wet clothes last night, and you may try to mask the fact that chills have been making you vibrate in front of me, but there is no way your not sick, no matter how many times you tell me you’re fine.”  
“Okay, but I am fine.” He said, arms crossed, before heading to his bedroom to get dressed.  
You waited in his apartment, absentmindedly flipped through some of his books. There were stacks of books everywhere; every spot you could fit a book, there was one. Two stacks of books were towered on his coffee table. On top of one was The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath, you hadn’t read it since high school, but you remember it being forward, and a bit unnerving.  
Reid’s door opened, startling you. He walked out wearing a striped shirt and a sweater, with his signature mismatched socks and Converse. He looked comfortable, and very childlike.  
“Are you ready?” You asked him.  
“Yeah, I’ll grab my keys.”  
“You drive?” You ask, never having seen him drive, you just assumed he didn’t or didn’t know how. How could you assume there was something that Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t know how to do.  
You followed him down stairs to the parking garage, to a 65’ Volvo. “This is your car?” You asked.  
“Yeah?”  
“It’s so cool, I did not picture you driving something like this.” You didn’t picture him driving a cool older car, but you also didn’t picture him wearing mismatched socks, or dressing up for halloween every year without fail. At this point nothing he did would surprise you.  
“You didn’t picture me driving something cool? So, you don’t think I’m cool?”  
“Well now I think you're cool, I mean after seeing this car.”  
He pressed the volume button to turn on the radio, tchaikovsky, the universe is restored. It was a ten minute-ish drive to the doctors. He signed in at the front desk, and you went to sit down. There were two seats under a window that you chose. The dark green vinyl was hot from the sun, but it was the only two isolated seats that you could see, other than the two girls that had the seats leaning on the wall. One of the girls had her hand under the other's skirt, and were kissing, very passionately. Hope one of them isn’t sick. You picked up one of the magazines next to you to avert your eyes. Home decorating, not the best option, but the bright colors and pinterest mom’s will definitely keep you occupied.  
Reid walked over to you and sat down, you could see him looking at the girls in the corner, and his face had bright red splotches on his cheeks. “Hey, are you into this?”  
“What? No!” he said in a high pitched voice, like that of one of the chipmunks in Alvin and the Chipmunks.  
“Then why is your face bright red?”  
“Maybe because the seats under the window are hot, and you shouldn’t be touching those magazines. They are one of the grossest things in here. Actually, the pen used at the front desk is, it has 46000 times more germs than the average toilet seat. That’s why I bring my own.”  
You set the magazine down. “Hey is your face warm, you're still bright red?”  
He looked over at you, shrugged at you and did his little awkward smile, and looked back down at the ground, head resting on his hands, elbows resting on his knees.  
“Spencer, Spencer Reid!” A woman yelled from the doorway.   
Reid smiled and waved as he stood up.  
“Wait, do I come in with you, or should I stay out here and see if I can join a thruple with those two?” He grabbed your wrist, seeing as to not touch your contaminated magazine hand, and helped you up to follow him in.  
You guys walked back and the NP asked him to take his shoes off to step on the scale, he stepped up, a lime green sock and one purple striped sock now showing. “153 pounds,” the nurse said.  
“Now stand over here so we can get your height,” You picked up his shoes for him, as she guided you across the hall to mark his height. He stood, back against the wall, “Okay, stand up straight.” He rolled his shoulders back and tilted his chin up. “6 foot 1 and ¼ inches”.  
You passed his shoes back to him, following the nurse to one of the rooms in the back. You got to sit in one of the chairs that mom’s would sit in and talk for their kids. He hopped up on the bench, with a crinkle of the paper.  
“The doctor will be in shortly,” she said, right before the nurse left the room.  
Reid scooted back against the wall, letting his head fall back. You looked over at him, his face still looking flush, and his eyes were closed as he sat there.   
A knock on the door interrupted your observation, but made Reid sit up, attention now focused on the man. “Hi, I’m Dr. Bradman. What brings you in today?”  
“I don’t…” Reid said looking over to you.  
“His face has been a bit flushed, and he may have a low fever,” You said for him. “Oh, and he was out in the rain and cold last night, I don’t know if that would do anything.”  
Reid piped up to say “Actually, being in the rain and cold doesn’t affect whether you will get sick or not. Being exhausted, stressed, under emotional duress, and having allergies with symptoms pertaining to nose and throat are the main reasons people get sick. Other than catching if from someone who is contagious.”  
“Hey, that’s my line,” The doctor said, sitting down on a chair with wheels.   
Reid awkwardly smiled, looking down at his hands.  
The doctor took Reid’s temperature, asked him a couple questions, and left for a couple minutes.   
You and Spencer sat in the room for a couple moments in silence, he was looking sicker by the moment. And after a while of silence, his head resting on the wall, eyes shut, the doctor walked back in.  
“It looks like you are sick, your temperature was raised a bit, and the redness on your nose and cheeks is a common symptom of sixth disease.”  
“Wait, that’s roseola, right?” You asked.  
“No, that’s only for children under the age of three.” Reid said, slightly perplexed.  
“Well yes, but it can occasionally affect adults who’ve never contracted it as a child.”  
Reid’s shoulders dropped, “How long will it last?”  
“It should clear up in the next three to five days.”  
“Okay.”  
“You can take medicine to reduce the fever, and stay hydrated.”  
You two left the office, but not without teasing him on the way out. “I once babysat a kid that had sixth disease. He was up all night crying, do you need me to babysit you?”  
“No! Just because I have a baby disease doesn’t mean I’m a baby” He crossed his arms on the walk back to the car.  
“Do you want me to drive, so you can get some rest?” You asked, holding a hand out for his keys.  
“Is this another joke?” He pushed his eyebrows together, and cocked his head slightly.  
“No; no it’s not.”  
“Can you drive a stick?”   
“Uh yeah, actually. I had a truck that was manual in high school.”  
He gave an impressed nod and passed his keys over.  
On the way home he laid his head against the cool glass of the window. His breath, making water bead up and fall. You walked him up to his apartment, but before you left you wanted to make sure he’d be okay.  
“Do you have a thermometer? I just want to see what your temperature is before I leave you.”   
He walked away to his bathroom and came back with a thermometer sticking out of the side of his mouth. He was pouting, you don’t know if it was because you made him check his temperature or if he just felt sick. You pulled the stick out of his mouth after hearing the beep.  
“100.3” You put your hands on his face, burning. “Do you want me to stay here for a little bit?”  
“You don’t have to…” He said and raised his shoulders to shrug.  
“I know I don’t have to, but do you want me to? It would be no trouble.” You said walking to his kitchen to wash the thermometer.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Absolutely.”  
“I would like you to stay, please.”  
“Okay, why don’t you go to bed and try to rest, and I’ll run to the store and get some food for dinner.”  
He nodded, “How long will you be gone?” Reid’s voice broke.  
“Not too long, I should be back before you wake up, but if you need me just call me.”  
“M’kay.”  
You walked out of his apartment, down the stairs, running your fingers across the banister. Should you grab some clothes in case you need to spend the night? Yeah, might as well run home and get the car before going to the grocery store.  
At the store you pick up some soup, popcorn to eat while watching a movie, cough medicine, ibuprofen (for the fever), and you couldn’t find any gatorade, so you bought pedialyte (I mean it’s the same stuff, and this is a baby disease). You also got a few other things you weren’t sure he had, and headed back.  
When you twisted the key into the lock is when you started to hear some slight coughing and some whines in between. So, you put the soup on the stove, and went in to check on him. His face was covered in little red spots that trailed down into his shirt; he was asleep and his hands were balled up into fists by his face. Sweat stuck his bangs to his face, and every cough made him subconsciously whimper.   
Reid was asleep in front of you, looking like a baby. If people didn’t think he was a baby before, if only they saw him now. It’s hard not being able to help him, other than just letting him sleep, but when he wakes up he’ll feel a whole lot worse, so why not prolong the contentment here.   
You decided to go tend to the food, while he slept. In a few minutes though, you heard him get up out of bed and a door slam. You walked over to his couch, leaning on the arm rest waiting for him to come out. A couple moments went by and you were still standing there. If he came out now, it would be like you were just standing there staring at his door waiting for him, which is exactly what you are doing. You went around the couch and sat down, moving the pillows from how he had slept on them that morning. You picked up a book from the top of one stack, and opened it, but his door swung open. Reid stood there, in the doorframe, the sleeves of his shirt pulled down over his hands, his head hung low, and tear streaks down his face. His voice wobbled when he said “I threw up.”  
“Are you okay, what do you need?” You asked, looking toward the giant toddler.  
“I don’t know,” he whispered, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.  
“Let me check your fever.”  
He nodded. You walked over to the kitchen to where you had left the thermometer, and while you’re in there you turn the heat off of the soup. You don’t think he wants it right now.  
He puts the thermometer in his mouth and stares at you with puppy dog eyes until it beeps. He takes it out and hands it to you without reading it. “102.4!” You rush over to get some medicine, and a mug to put water in. “Here take this, baby. You must be miserable.”  
He closed his eyes and gave a labored smile. Taking the medicine made him wince as he swallowed.  
“Why don’t I run you a cool bath, to see if we can get your fever down faster?”  
“‘Kay,” he started walking back to his room, stopping to brace himself on the wall.  
You wrapped your arm around him, guiding him to his bathroom. You two stood awkwardly for a couple seconds not knowing what the first move was gonna be, but you sat him down on the toilet to wait for the water to fill. You ran the bath with lukewarm water, not hot, but not uncomfortably cold. Reid sat on his toilet, knees hugged to his chest, and his face and body were sweaty.   
You turned off the tap and looked at him quizzically. Reid quickly stood up to usher you out, but got a head rush and had to lean against a wall. You walked to the doorway and waited for his next move. He tried taking his shirt off, but only got one arm out; on the second arm his wrist got stuck on the sleeve. He flailed his arm for a second, before giving up and frustratedly slumping against the wall. You walked over to him, pulled his shirt over his head, and helped pick him up. You put your arms around his waist and pulled him up with little to no help from him. You two stood there for a second, holding Spencer; all of his weight leaned into you as you held him. He was shaking.  
You helped him sit on the edge of the tub, and asked “How do we do this?”  
“If I asked you to stay, would you?” He looked up at you with his big brown eyes.  
“Absolutely.”  
You helped wiggle him out of his pajama pants, and left him sitting in hot pink briefs. Then, turning around, you heard a little splash of him kicking his legs over, and then a slosh of water displacement.  
“Okay, you’re good,” he whispered.  
You turned back around and bent down next to the tub. He leaned his head on the edge of the bathtub and you folded up a hand towel and shoved it under for him to use as a pillow. You scooted back, and reached for a washcloth off of his counter. A small stack of them fell on top of you. You picked one up, that hadn’t touched the ground, and ran it under some cold water. After squeezing it out, you sat on the back of the tub, and dabbed it across Spencer’s forehead. He leaned his head against your thigh and looked up at you. You looked down at him, “If I knew I was staying here, I’d have run you a bubble bath.”  
He smiled; you could tell his fever was going down a bit. Seeing him without clothes on, showed you just how much of his body was covered in little red splotches. They ran from his cheeks, down his chest, and stopped a little lower than his protruding hip bones.   
A few moments of you silently dabbing his face was interrupted by a coughing attack, leaving Spence shaking a bit.   
“Laying back may not be the best thing for a cough, why don’t we finish up in here so we can sit on the couch, maybe watch a movie or something?”  
He nodded.  
“Do you want me to wash your hair, it’s wet already from the washcloth,” you handed him the washcloth, and picked up the mug he drank water out of earlier.  
“Yes please.” He placed the washcloth over his eyes and you dunked the mug in his bath water. You poured it over his head as he leaned back.  
“Where’s your shampoo?”  
He leaned forward and handed you the bottle. Johnson’s cotton touch 2 in 1 shampoo and body wash.  
“You use 2 in 1 baby shampoo?”   
“It’s for sensitive skin.”  
“It’s for babies.”  
“If it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.”  
“Can we at least buy you some conditioner some time?” You asked, giving him a mohawk with baby soap.  
“Sure,” He said, defeated.  
You pour the cup over his head again, rinsing his hair clean of soap. You handed him his towel from behind the door, and walked out, leaving the door open a little and sitting on his bed in the next room in case he needed you. In a minute he walked out in pajama pants with little cowboys on them, and a robe.   
You got up, went to his bathroom and brought out a comb. “Sit,” You scolded.  
He sat on the edge of his bed, you behind him brushing his hair.  
Once you were satisfied with the style, you linked arms with him and went out to the living room. He started moving the books and things off of his coffee table, while you went to go make popcorn.   
You came back with a box of saltines, a bowl of popcorn, and a bottle of pedialyte with a straw in it.  
“Is this another joke?” he asked reading the label.  
“No, they were out of the other stuff.”  
You sat down, handing him the box of crackers. His laptop was open on the coffee table, and he threw a blanket across the both of you to share.   
“What are we going to watch?”  
“Star Trek” he said and pressed the spacebar to play it.  
“You’ll like it,” he said and put his head on your shoulder. “Hey, thanks for staying with me today.”   
“It’s no problem, I like hanging out with you.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah, and eventually we will need to buy you some conditioner.”  
“It’s a date,” he said and snuggled closer to you.  
You played with his hair until he fell asleep on your lap, leaving you watching Star Trek all night, but you do like it now.


End file.
